


Cold

by Hathaway01



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathaway01/pseuds/Hathaway01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little bit of fluff to get me back into the swing of writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The wind howled outside, as Robbie lent forward to switch his computer off for the night. He was tired. Wrung out and feeling like he had been pushing uphill all day, he could almost hear a pint calling. 

“Have you had anything to eat today, Sir?” asked James, his blonde head bobbing slightly, a concerned look on his drawn face.

“That’s funny, Hathaway. You don’t look much like me Mam” was the tired reply.

“It’s only because I care, Sir” Robbie remembered hearing those words said to him before. This time though, there wasn’t the sting of sarcasm, just genuine concern. He felt a bit bad for being a grouch.

“I’ll have something when I get in, happy?” he said, raining his eyebrows and his hands in mock surrender. 

“Be sure you do, Sir. I don’t want to be hauling your lumpen carcass off the floor should you collapse during an interview. One of us having a ruined spine is quite enough.”

“Lumpen carcass? Smart arse” He grinned despite himself, a feeling of warmth knowing that James was looking out for him spreading through his body and lightening his heavy bones. As it was, his back had been giving him grief again, and he leaned back slightly, arching as he did so. A loud crack bounced around the room, his bones grinding against each other. He couldn’t disguise the look of pain that showed on his face, and as he righted himself, Hathaway was moving across the room like greased lightning. By his side, James gently placed the palm of his hand on Robbies back

“Are you alright, Sir? That sounded brutal. Have you been falling asleep on the sofa again? You know you need to sleep on a proper mattress. That’s the reason you got the orthopaedic one.” As he spoke, James was rubbing small circles at the base of his spine. It was slightly odd, but a lot comforting. 

“Aye…I just can’t keep me eyes open. As soon as I sit down, I’m out like a light. Keep waking up in awkward positions on the sofa.” That wasn't exactly the whole truth, but it was as much as he was willing to offer to James. 

“Isn’t the bed comfy?” James quizzed him. He was a brilliant detective, and he could sense that there was something more to this.

“The bed’s fine enough…it’s just…” Robbie stammered. He couldn’t very well tell his Sergeant that he was avoiding sleeping in his bed because he was cold. His flat’s heating was on the blink, and the only reliable heater was in his lounge. His bedroom was icy cold, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t warm up.

Hathaway was simply staring at him, his eyes piercing through Robbie. He would wait him out until he spoke. He crossed his arms over his thin frame, a sure sign that he knew his boss was holding out on him.

Robbie sighed, giving in. “I’m cold.”

“Cold?”

“Yeah. My heater is broke and my bedroom is like an ice box. I can’t get warm in there no matter how many blankets I put on. I can’t get anyone to come and look at it for another week. The only heater that works is in the lounge. Never used to be cold with Val, but sleeping on your own is a different matter.” Robbie offered a sheepish look on his face. He was aware how pitiful this sounded, but it was the truth.

“Well that’s an easy fix, Sir” Hathaway answered, deadpan. Robbie squinted his brows, creases forming in the corners of his blue eyes. “You need someone to come and warm you up, Sir."

“Easier said than done, lad.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sir. I’m happy to help you out. If it means you getting a good night’s sleep, and me not having to deal with a cranky, doubled-over Geordie, I’m happy to take one for the team, so to speak.”

Robbie’s mouth must have been hanging open, and Hathaway’s delight at this was obvious.

“I’ll be over about eight, Sir. Best get an early night.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more, as people so kindly asked.

It was just on eight o’clock when the doorbell rang. Robbie had half expected James not to turn up. He was sure that he was just winding him up when he had offered to come and sleep over, poking fun at him, telling him he had gone soft in his old age. But there was a part of Robbie that very much liked the idea of James staying at his place. Sure, there had been the odd occasion where James had flaked out on his couch after a particularly long case, or after one too many drinks, but never a planned stop over. 

Robbie had found himself faffing about in the flat, trying to busy himself, waiting to see if James would in fact turn up. When he heard the bell go, he had jumped from where he was standing behind the sink. He eyed the kitchen, making sure that it was neat and tidy, and made his way through the lounge. As he headed for the door, he straightened a cushion on the couch, and gave the room the once over. It wasn’t that keeping the flat tidy was a bother, Robbie had never been messy. In fact, his long hours made housekeeping quite easy. If you were never home, you were never there to make a mess. A slight nervous twinge pinged it’s way round his insides, and he opened the door.

James was there, rucksack over his shoulder and toothbrush in his hand. He grinned at Robbie, and pushed his way past through into the lounge. 

“You’re not wrong, Sir. It’s bloody freezing in here” he said, rubbing his hands together. He was right, it was icy. The cold snap outside had made the house colder than usual, and the heating in the lounge was working overtime, but still not making much of a dent in the chilly air. James dumped his bag behind the couch and walked through to the kitchen. “Any tea on the go, Sir?” Robbie wandered through behind James and flicked the kettle on. He reached up about the range hood and got out two mugs. He placed a tea bag in each, and then thought better of it. He found the tea pot and popped the bags in there. If they were going to be up for a while, may as well make a pot. They chatted idly about the happenings of the day while Robbie poured the tea and then they made their way over to the couch. James flicked on the television, and found a documentary. One of those Attenborough specials with lots of panoramic shot. James sunk into the couch and made himself comfortable. For a while, they watched the TV in amicable silence.

“Is this alright, Sir?” James suddenly said, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Is what alright?” Robbie asked.

“Me. Being here. Is it alright? Only I thought you may think I was taking the mickey out of you, offering to stay. Just so you know, I wasn’t” James said, turning slightly to eye Robbie, the faintest of blushes creeping over his cheeks.

Robbie felt a blizzard of previously un-thought thoughts, and previously un-felt feelings twist through him. James was his Sergeant. His friend. His mate. He had been there for Robbie when there was no one else, and they understood each other in a way that not many people did. He was special, and he valued the man sitting alongside him more than anyone else. James was an enigma in many ways, but then so was Robbie. Perhaps that’s why they fitted together so well. They knew where they stood with each other, but this…this was new. It didn’t mean anything, did it?

“Of course it’s alright, James…more than alright” he replied. A smile filled his face, and James too smiled back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally make it to bed.

The time had slipped between them easily, and before they knew it, it was almost midnight. Robbie yawned, and could feel himself starting to nod off. He wanted to go to bed, but he didn’t really know what was going to happen. James offering to keep him warm so he could get a good night’s sleep was one thing, actually having it happen was quite another. James caught his yawn, and covered his mouth as he arched his back in a stretch. If he just said nothing, and hoped for the best, maybe James would be the one to make the first move. Robbie cast him a furtive glance, and then looked back to the television rubbing his eyes.

“Time for bed I think, Sir” James said. The relief from Robbie was almost palpable. Thank God he hadn’t been the one to suggest it. Although it was completely innocent, he was certain that asking your Sergeant to bed contravened about a thousand rules. Robbie sat there, deep in thought, contemplating if this meant anything or not. He knew that there was something special between he and James,. Something he had never felt with another man. Sure, he had felt something magical between he and Val, something he knew he could never replicate with anyone. But what he was feeling with James was something different. He felt nervous. He could sense the burn that was glowing red hot from his cheeks. 

James must have either sensed the nervousness in Robbie, or was feeling the same himself. He rose from the couch, and stood, his fingers fidgeting, a sign of uncertainty and second guessing. Robbie had seen James so this often enough in cases, when he was starting to question his own motives. The thought of James feeling foolish was too much for Robbie to cope with, so he summoned all the courage he had, and stood, walking towards the coffee table. He picked up the remote and flicked off the television. James moved towards the doorway and turned off the lights, and silently they moved towards the stairs. James hung at the bottom of the steps, and waited for Robbie to lead the way. There was a definite air of tension, but not an uncomfortable feeling. More like they were both anticipating something. 

Robbie reached the landing and headed down the hall. “I’ll just…” he trailed off, pointing towards the bathroom. James nodded, and pointed towards the bedroom, his bag slung over his shoulder. Robbie made his way into the small room, and went about his usual business. As he cleaned his teeth, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His skin was sagging these days, his hair greying at the temples. His eyes, still dazzlingly blue, looked tired at the corners. He sucked in his tummy, standing tall, holding his breath. He exhaled noisily as the rest of him returned to his soft form. He wasn’t in bad shape considering. He bet he could probably outrun most people half his age…a lifetime of chasing crooks had seen to that. He had never been self-conscious about his looks or his age, but here he was, with a man young enough to be his son getting ready for bed in the next room. It struck him suddenly, what would James wear to bed? Robbie usually slept naked. It seemed a bit ridiculous now, but it was something he had always done. When the kids were younger, he had worn shorts in case they came into the room in the middle of the night, but since they were teenagers, he and Val had always slept bare. It was a nod towards their youth, and Robbie had loved the feeling of flesh on flesh while he slumbered. He had a pair of pyjamas in the wardrobe somewhere. He kept them for when he visited Lyn, or was away on work business. He would have to fish them out. He heard James shuffling in the bedroom, probably waiting to use the bathroom himself. He flicked the light and made his way to his room.

James was indeed waiting, hanging around in the room. Robbie could see that he was wearing a loose white t-shirt with an image from a music festival, and bright pink boxer shorts. His feet were bare and he had glasses on. Robbie stared at him for a moment. He was unused to seeing James so unbuttoned. James skirted around him and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Robbie heard the tap running and the general sounds of someone moving about, sounds he was not used to hearing. He smiled to himself, and headed to the wardrobe to retrieve the pyjamas. Robbie moved things about looking for them. Where were the sodding things? He was certain they were here somewhere. James returned to the room and stood in the doorway, obviously taking in the scene of Robbie frustrated searching.

“What are you doing, Sir?” James asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Looking for something” came the reply, Robbie’s voice muffled from deep within the wardrobe. Finally! He found them, green and white striped pyjamas. Hardly attractive, and certainly not comfortable, but they would have to do. He caught James’s bemused expression as he headed out to the bathroom again to change. He quickly dispensed with his clothes and put on the scratchy articles, quickly flicking the light again and padding his way over to the bed. James was standing by the side of the bed.  
“I put my things on this side, Sir, I hope that’s okay.” It would have been obvious to anyone which side of the bed Robbie slept on, his bedside table was littered with loose change, a handkerchief and other bits and bobs. 

“It’s fine James” Robbie said. “Right…” Robbie said, looking at the bed. They both pulled back the duvet and climbed in. This was awkward. “Do you usually read or something else?” he asked James. 

“Read, usually. ‘Something else’, only very occasionally, Sir” James replied with a hint of a smirk.

“Smart arse” Robbie muttered, and shuffled down the bed, positioning himself squarely in the middle of his pillow, carefully avoiding touching James. “You ready for the light off?” 

In the darkness, the room felt simultaneously small, and cavernously big. It had been years since Robbie had shared a bed with anyone. Not since the night before Val had died. There had been no one since then. It was strange, but familiar at the same time. They lay in the darkness listening to each other’s breath for a few minutes. Robbie could tell that James was still awake. He was moving every so softly, as if trying not to make the bed move. 

“It is bloody cold in here, Sir. I know what you mean now”

“I know. I have the man coming at the end of the week. Don’t know what it is about this room though, it’s like an ice box.” There voices both sounded deeper in the darkness, James’s voice having a gravelly quality. A mixture of cigarettes and the cold air probably.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” James said. 

Robbie considered for a moment before answering. “Hmmm. It is. But it’s okay. It’d been ages since I’ve shared a bed with anyone.” said Robbie, his voice trailing off into the distance. He could almost hear James making the connection to Val, and Robbie could sense the moment he made the realisation. “It’s not the same as with her James. Don’t worry.” He said, without having to explain himself further, he knew that James would understand. They laid there in silence for a while longer, the night sky peeping through the curtains to give just a flickering candles-worth of light. 

“Do you normally sleep in those pyjamas?” James asked, the curious quirk in his tone told Robbie that he was winding him up ever so slightly. You didn’t need to be a detective to work out that the deeply buried items were not his regular sleep wear. “Only they seemed pretty buried, Sir. Not that they don’t suit you.” Definitely winding him up now.

“Okay, clever-clogs. You’ve had your fun.” Robbie wasn’t really embarrassed, and he did start to relax a little when he felt James laugh gently. More silence followed, but they were both starting to relax, and the initial awkwardness was dissipating. 

“It is warmer you know.” Robbie said, turning his head to face James. James kept his face towards the ceiling, resolutely not making eye contact. This had been his idea, and now, was he regretting it? 

“Body heat, Sir. It’s very effective. Probably why you never needed those hideous pyjamas when you shared a bed.”

“Hideous! Cheeky sod!” Lewis said, gently swiping at James with his arm that was still free. They turned to face each other, the tension broken. 

“Thank you James. I mean it.” Robbie said. 

“Goodnight, Sir. Sleep well.” Robbie looked at James, something welling in his chest. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. He raised his hand, and ran his fingers across James’s cheek. This felt so intimate, and so comforting. Robbie could feel his eyes beginning to close almost immediately.


End file.
